


First Times

by VinoVeritas



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Clean fun, F/M, Those Three Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VinoVeritas/pseuds/VinoVeritas
Summary: A few new experiences for Vegeta and Bulma





	First Times

**FIRST TIMES**

  
The first time she flirted with the idea, they’d been arguing for over an hour about schematics and power efficiency for her newest model of the gravity chamber. He told her she could get twice the amount of resistance if she only rerouted power from point A to point Q by going through points M, Z, and F... _In that order_. She told him that he was wrong.

He told her to fuck off.

He gave her his usual _woman, I am the Prince of all Saiyans_ bit that she’s heard a thousand times before and she proceeded to ignore him. She was bored by his antics. His billowing always ended the same way; with him leaving for a week or two before returning as if their fights never happened. It was getting tiresome.

This time, though, he surprised her.

As she walked away, content to leave him and return to her lab, she found herself pinned up against the wall with Vegeta standing between her and freedom. His body radiated with heat around her. She could feel his aura in a way never allowed to her before. It was incredibly overwhelming.

And it was affecting her in ways she hadn’t expected.

He was unfathomably close, his face mere inches from her own. She felt the warmth of his breath as he locked eyes with her, holding her captive with nothing but his will.

“You think you can just walk away from me, woman?” She breathed deep, finding her lungs short of air. The action drew his eyes away from her own and onto her mouth where they lingered slightly before returning. Vegeta shifted his weight.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out she wasn’t the only one feeling things.

“My house; my rules,” she said, attempting to put some weight behind it. Though, admittedly, it wasn’t her best argument. “You may be a prince, but in this house I’m queen. If you want anything from me you’ll treat me with the respect I deserve.”  
A smile formed at one corner of his mouth as his eyes, once again, lingered on her lips.

“Anything, huh?” His voice dropped an octave, giving it a seductive cadence she could feel in her bones. “I may just take you up on that.”

Bulma could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention; heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks. Whether from anger or something else she couldn’t tell, nor did she want to. She decided, instead, to push Vegeta away. He backed up easily enough, giving her the space she desired. She could see the amusement in his eyes as he did so, knowing he had won the battle.

It only fueled her flame.

“You are such a fucking _prick_ , Vegeta!” Again, not her best come back.

She stormed off down the hall towards her lab with the echo of Vegeta’s triumph in her ears. She hated him more than ever; though not nearly as much as the blush that stubbornly remained the rest of the day.

...

  
The first time he touched her was forever etched into his memory whether he wanted it or not. He’d nearly killed himself training and she had nursed him back to health, though not without having to listen to his protests for hours on end. He was admittedly being a stubborn child about the whole thing, but her kindness and, dare he say it, _concern_ for him was overwhelming.

Her obvious desire for his body he could deal with. Lust was easy; a primal need quickly rectified if he felt inclined. What she had displayed recently, though, was something else entirely. And it made him uneasy. It stirred things within him he believed to have been eradicated decades ago. Anger he understood, he had it in spades. But this... _thing_ she was offering him was something completely new.

He’d never admit it, but it scarred the shit out of him.

So, of course, he fled from it.

Vegeta had _never_ considered himself a coward. He _never_ backed down from a challenge, whether he needed to or not. In his mind, it was one of his best attributes. But when it came to the woman he found himself getting further and further out of his depth. So when he left the compound late one evening he didn’t consider it fleeing, so much as needing his own personal space.

Had he thought about it for more than ten seconds he would have realized it was a shit-ass excuse, but Vegeta hadn’t built the reputation he had because of his deep thinking.  
When he finally returned, having run out of excuses to stay away, it was under the cover of darkness. He had hoped to slip into his room quietly, without notice, and in the morning he would act as if he had never left. But those ideas fell to the wayside as he passed by the woman’s balcony.

She sat nonchalantly, starring into nothingness, a glass of wine in hand. The way she absentmindedly swirled the red liquid around, her leg crossed lazily over the other, reminded him of a dream. The unimpeded image of her dressed in his family’s colors, sitting upon his mother’s throne, danced around in his mind before he had a chance to stop it.

Without his permission his body floated down towards her.

“Welcome back,” she said apathetically.

He would have preferred she slap him.

“I won’t apologize,” he told her sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” She shifted her gaze to the wine, seemingly inspecting its color, though he suspected she payed it little attention. “You’re not a prisoner here. You’re free to come and go as you please.”

Every instinct he possessed was screaming at him that something was wrong. She should be waking the city with her antics over him leaving. She should be yelling at him for being a terrible house guest, which he was; for being an ungrateful bastard, which he wasn’t; for using her for her brains and equipment, which he really didn’t have an argument against.

Instead she rose to enter her room, wine left behind on a table next to where she sat. “Do as you wish, Vegeta,” she said, her back towards him. “I don’t care anymore.”

A hitch in her voice caught him off guard. One second Vegeta was floating in front of her balcony, the next his hand was on her bare shoulder, turning her to face him. He was prepared to yell at her, demand she treat him with the respect deserving of his title when the glint of the compound lights reflecting off her tear stained cheeks stilled him.

Had she been crying this whole time?

Over him, no less?

It couldn’t be. He refused to believe it. Weakling that she was physically the woman was the only one amongst the loathsome group she associated with that had any emotional strength at all. The rest of them were nothing but a bunch of sniveling children. She, at least, had some real fight to her. And the wits to match. But this side she showed him now was completely new.

And somehow he couldn’t bring himself to hate her for it.

Her apathy had cut him deeper than any wound sustained in battle. But this...

Her tears threatened to break again as he starred at her dumbfounded. She tried to wrench herself free from his grasp but he only held her firmer, strong enough to keep her in place.

“Let me go, Vegeta,” she said, her voice low and cracking under the weight of an emotion he couldn’t place. This was a battlefield he had no experience in. There were no tactics or strategies he had been taught to prepare him for this moment. So he relied on pure instinct.

Before he could talk himself out of it he stepped in closer to her, invading her personal space. In the back of his mind he had expected her to reopen the distance but she stayed firm, though she still refused to meet his eyes. He removed his hand from her shoulder and used a knuckle to lift her chin until she was forced to look at him.

Galaxies circled in her eyes as the tears she had tried to hold back finally succumbed to gravity’s pull. The sadness in those eyes broke a piece of him that he would never acknowledge existed. As her tears trailed down onto his skin he closed the distance between their mouths. After an eternity she returned his kiss and for one blissful moment Vegeta was content.

...

The first time she realized things had changed was at Chichi’s house. The matriarch was preparing a feast for her two warriors who were busy consuming their food faster than Chichi could prepare it. Bulma would never cease to be impressed.

The boys seemed to be enjoying their food, though how they could taste it before it hit their bellies she’d never know. The smell of it, though, was making her nauseous. So much so she excused herself to use their restroom. When she returned Chichi eyed her carefully.

“You okay, Bulma?” Goku asked with a mouth full of food, mid swallow. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

She smiled at him. “No, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit queasy lately.”

“So how’s Yamcha?” Chichi asked, focused seemingly on her cooking. Fried steak with broccoli and potatoes. The boys fourth main course.

“Dunno,” Bulma answered honestly, taking her seat. “I haven’t talked to him in months.”

ChiChi hummed. “How many months?”

“Maybe six. I haven’t kept track.”

“I see,” Chichi said casually, the slight twitch of her eye barely noticeable. She placed the whole wok of fried steak on the table in front of Goku who dug in without invitation. “And what about Vegeta?”

“What _about_ Vegeta?” It seemed Bulma just couldn’t escape it. She’d come to visit the Son’s in order to forget about her ‘house guest’ who refused to stay put. One minute he was worshiping her body like an idol, the next he was gone for weeks on end without rhyme or reason. This last time he’d yelled at her, something about being a distraction, then commandeered a space craft and flew off to who knew where.

The nearly literal push and pull of their... relationship (if it could even be called that) was driving her up a wall. At night, in the silence of her room and solace of her bed, he would treat her like a queen. But as soon as the son rose she became detestable to him. He would go to great lengths to avoid her like she was diseased. She was so stressed over it her whole body was reacting against her.

“Are you two... close?” Chichi’s hand was steady by her husband’s side. Goku, for his part, had stopped eating mid bite. Had she bothered to look Bulma would have seen him starring at her wide-eyed.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, necessarily.”

“Oh, hey, Gohan,” cried Goku unexpectedly, throwing down his chopsticks into the plate of unfinished food. “I just remembered we’re late to train with Piccolo. I forgot we promised to spar with him today.”

Gohan paused. “We never promised – “

But Goku had already picked up the boy and was half way out the door before his son could utter another word. “Bye Chichi, bye Bulma. Have fun you two!” And just like that the Son boys were 50 feet in the air headed to Kami knew where. It wasn’t lost on Bulma how appropriate that statement was.

She looked at Chichi, dumbfounded. “That was unusual.”

“Oh? You know Goku. Always spontaneously doing something none of us are privy to.”

Bulma thought she heard the slightest whisper of resentment in her friend, but ignored it.

“So,” Chichi continued, “I’ll cut to the chase. How long have you been sick?” That caught Bulma unawares. Apparently spontaneity was strong in their family.

“Uh, not long, I think. A couple weeks. I haven’t been keeping track. I wouldn’t even call it sick, really. It just hits me every so often. Probably from stress.”

Chichi hummed, unimpressed. “Usually around meal time?” Her tone was starting to make Bulma feel like a cat in a cage.

“Not always, no.”

“What about in the morning?” Chichi was studying her the same way Bulma studied a blueprint. It was eerie being on the receiving end of such intensity.

“I guess so, but like I said I haven’t really been paying attention.” Her focus was always somewhere else. Lately, on some _one_ else.

“Have you and Vegeta had sex?” Chichi’s bluntness threw Bulma for a loop. She’d always been a direct sort of person, but this was just getting ridiculous.

“How did you – what makes you think that we – “ Chichi looked at her pointedly and Bulma froze mid sentence. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. “No..” she said in denial. “No, it can’t be. There’s no way.”

Chichi pointed to where Gohan had been sitting before being spirited away by his father.

“There’s definitely a way.”

“That’s impossible. I’m on – “

“Which you know isn’t always effective.”

“Yeah, like one in a million, maybe!”

Chichi smiled. “It only takes one.”

_Sonofabitch!_

How the hell could she have let something like this happen? She couldn’t have a _baby_! And definitely not _Vegeta’s_ baby. This was supposed to just be a fun little fling, not something she was going to literally be carrying around for the rest of her life. But, then again, even as the thought came to her Bulma knew she was only fooling herself. She’d been catching the feels for that acidic man from day one. And while she tried not to entertain any delusions that he felt the same, that dynamic dreamer she’d been in her youth would creep up every so often and ruin her reality.

But now even her dreams of a future with a loving Vegeta were dead.

Bulma wondered what galaxy he would run to in order to avoid her after she dropped this bomb shell on him. Whether he’d even come back so she _could_ tell him.

“I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Chichi was already pushing a glass of water in her hands. Kami bless this woman and her foresight. “Just breathe, Bulma. You’ll be alright.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, hollow though it was. “What makes you so sure?”

Her friend looked at her with wisdom beyond her years. “If I can raise a half Saiyan baby practically by myself, then you sure as hell can, too.”

That was the most comforting thing Bulma had heard in a long time.

It also terrified the hell out of her.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this site. I’ll probaby make some adjustments at a later date. It’s been a looooong time since I’ve written anything and I’m a bit rusty. Hope you enjoyed!


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